


With Whom Will You Dance?

by jericks3



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Also sorta like Sense and Sensiblity just a bit too?, Alternate Universe - Regency, Background Elsa/honeymaren, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Regency, Suppressed Feelings, because I'm obsessed with Emma right now, regency au, this is basically an Emma AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jericks3/pseuds/jericks3
Summary: The Arendelle sisters, along with their nearest neighbor, Mr. Bjorgman, experience a tumultuous upheaval in their day to day lives as new faces join their society.
Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Comments: 103
Kudos: 94





	1. Undramatic

**Author's Note:**

> SO.  
> I went and saw the new adaptation of "Emma" before the movie theaters closed down... and it very well may be my favorite thing ever. 
> 
> Then I got a dialogue prompt from tumblr and my little nerd brain made this.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! :) 
> 
> Prompt: "We are doomed"

  
  


Kristoff felt quite like ripping off his muslin tie from where it was secured round his throat, as he was certain it was choking him to death. That was the only logical explanation for why he could no longer draw a proper breath.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Anna was sitting so near him on the settee.

It most certainly had not a thing to do with the fact that she was discussing the newly arrived Mr. Westergaard with her sister, who sat opposite them, carefully stitching away at a cushion.

“What were your thoughts of him, Elsa?” Anna leaned forward and rested her elbows atop her knees and put her chin in her gloved hands.

An unladylike way to sit, to be sure, but nonetheless he found it remarkably endearing; especially when he considered that she would never sit that way when true guests were present. He was hardly considered a guest any longer, but an extension of the household - as Anna had mentioned at least once a week since the day she’d turned eighteen, three and a half years ago.

“I thought,” Elsa spoke after a moment’s deliberation, “he certainly looked the part of a gentleman.”

“I agree with you completely!” Anna said brightly. “He was far more handsome than any previous descriptions of him we have managed to gather.”

Kristoff couldn’t help but give a slight scoff, and he turned the page of the book he was reading firmly.

Anna gave him a sidelong glance but continued on.

“Really, I found him to be a picture of exactly what he ought to be. Don’t you agree, Elsa?”

Kristoff turned another page a bit aggressively but looked up at Elsa to see what she might say.

“I suppose,” Elsa sounded hesitant, and her eyes raised to Kristoff’s with a small, triumphant smile. “Though I would suspect Mr. Bjorgman does not agree with your evaluation, Anna.”

The use of formal title was clearly meant to poke fun at him, as the three had long referred to one another by their Christian names.

“Of course, he doesn’t.” Anna rolled her eyes and turned to look at him. “Mr. Bjorgman never agrees with me.”

“That is hardly true.” Kristoff let his eyes roam over the page of his book again, refusing to look at her. “I agree with you often.”

“Not as often as you disagree with me.” She boldly reached forward and snatched the book from his hand. “Come now! Tell me. What is your opinion of him?”

“I’d rather not give it as yours has been so clearly stated in favour of his character.” Kristoff rolled his eyes at her and reached to take his book back.

“I never said a thing about his character!” Anna held it behind her, and out of his reach. “I know little of it. I merely said he was the picture of exactly what he ought to be.”

“Oh I see.” Kristoff reached farther for it, coming close to her, though not so close as to be in danger of being impertinent. “And ought he be a pompous, arrogant, Narcissus?”

“Well!” Anna gasped, her eyes wide with surprise, still keeping the book from his grasp. “It sounds to me as though you’ve found someone with whom you  _ wish _ to find fault.”

“Hardly.” Kristoff said, doing his best to remain calm.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but it seems as if you are quite jealous, Mr. Bjorgman.” She said again in jesting tones.

“As I would be hard pressed to find a quality in the man which I could find myself envious, I can assure you that is not the case.” Despite his best efforts to remain inoffensive, his mouth betrayed him and his words turned stern.

“Don’t hold back your good opinion of him on my account!” Anna gave a sardonic laugh, her tone a bit sharper than before.

“Believe me, I shan’t any longer.” He scowled and took one final grab for his book, completely ignoring what would be an appropriate distance between them and caught it.

“Then don’t. Tell me what you think of him.” She challenged, refusing to release her hold on the book, so he remained close.

“I will then. I think it important to tell you he is remarkably rude, as you did not see the way he treated the footman at the dinner party last night. I would also like to remind you that he is incredibly pretentious, as you seem to have overlooked the way he wore his meager titles as if they were a crown. He is also unspeakably vain, as there could be no other explanation as to why a man would ride up to London just to get his haircut.”

“That’s hardly a great distance-“ Anna started to say but Kristoff continued, holding his position firm.

“17 miles in one direction, Anna. To get his hair cut. Additionally, I’m sorry to inform you that there is also a littleness about him that was expressed when he was in conversation with only men, the details of which I shall not repeat to you. You most certainly can do better than to exaggerate such a fool into a heroic gentleman. I know you are inclined towards the romantic, but truly Anna, you can do better.”

Anna blinked once in surprise, and he couldn’t tell if it was from his words or from his nearness.

He found himself wishing, beyond anything, that he could be so near her without having spoken harsh words. Her eyes were quite like the sea, and very easy to get lost in.

Then his own eyes betrayed him and they flickered down to her lips for the briefest moment before returning to hold her gaze. 

Then she scowled, her beautiful freckled cheeks becoming flushed with anger and he hated himself for being the one to cause her to wear such an expression. He would much rather cause her to flush for other reasons. He would much rather ease the tension between her brows, possibly with a soft kiss.

“Really, Kristoff.” She let go of the book and stood to her feet quickly. “There’s no need to treat me like a child.”

“My dearest, Anna, I would never.” He entreated with severity. “But I fear for you greatly, as you hold one terrible flaw, and that you are far too openhearted and trusting.”

Without another word Anna stomped from the room and Kristoff was left alone with Elsa, who was gazing at him closely.

Kristoff couldn’t imagine why he was breathing so hard, and once again he fought the urge to rip off his necktie. He took a deep breath and opened his book again, determining not to look across the room and read the expression on his closest friend’s face, though he had a good idea what he would find.

After several quiet minutes of him staring blankly at the page, Elsa spoke.

“As you know I always think your logic to be remarkably sound.”

“Mmm.” He hummed back drily.

“And I think your assessment of Mr. Westergaard to be an accurate one.”

“Then why not say anything to Anna?” He huffed, finally looking up to see that Elsa had one of her eyebrows raised as she appraised him.

“Because I wished to save you embarrassment, as you most certainly  _ are _ jealous of Mr. Westergaard.”

Kristoff merely scoffed and returned to staring at his page, ignoring the prickling feeling at the back of his neck.

“Maybe not of what he has or who he is, but you are certainly envious of the interest he attracts… I think you might wish to be on the receiving end of such interest.”

Kristoff merely chewed the inside of his cheek and stared resolutely at the meaningless words before him.

“If that be the case…” Elsa continued. “I may suggest that you... do a bit more ‘wooing’, so to speak, as my sister is not inclined to fall into an undramatic love.”

“Then we are doomed.” Kristoff said not looking up, though his cheeks felt like they were on fire as he all but admitted to Elsa something that he had kept tucked away deep in his heart.

He had never spoken so plainly about what was now continuously plaguing his thoughts; that affection for Anna that he’d harboured since he was just a young lad. That secret desire to possibly, one day, win her heart as she had so thoroughly besotted his.

“Doomed?” Elsa repeated, her voice full of a soft compassion for his plight.

“Yes, doomed, as I have listed amongst my own flaws on numerous occasions, an inability to express my deepest feelings, a simplicity of nature that borders on dull, and a decidedly undramatic way of living my life. I think those things very unlikely to change, no matter how hard I might try.”

The necktie felt, once again, that it might be choking him, but he knew this time it was due to the lump in his throat as he fought back tears at the voicing of the truth he had long since realized about himself; that despite his status and standing he was entirely too plain for someone as extraordinarily special as Anna.

“Well, I should hardly say you’re undramatic.” Elsa mused after a moment’s silence, no doubt being gracious enough to give him a moment to regain his composure. “As you very nearly kissed my sister a mere moment ago whilst I was watching.”

“I did nothing of the sort.” Kristoff mumbled gruffly.

“You most certainly did.” Elsa said, then after a pause. “And I should hardly say you are doomed.” 

“Oh?” He chanced. 

“Not in the slightest. You are the picture of a gentleman, and a true friend. One whom I know for a fact Anna speaks of most highly.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Elsa, but we both know Anna views me much the same way you do. As a brother of sorts, and nothing more.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Elsa murmured before going back to her cushion, offering no other explanation as to why she might say such a thing.


	2. Perfectly Intact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be forthright and tell you all that I know my "Austenian" language is NOT perfect... but I tried!! And I had fun while I did it so I'd call it a win. 
> 
> Enjoy some yearning, coupled with dancing, and a nice side of pining :)

At the first dance of the evening Kristoff was already tense, to say the least. He was hardly what one would call a poor dancer. On the contrary, he was sure footed, knew all the steps, and executed them well.

Yet, very few young ladies enjoyed being partnered with him due to his lack of conversation and distinct sullenness. Of which, Elsa had been sure to point out many times in their youth, though she had the grace not to mention it at this occasion as they stood across from one another on the dance floor.

It wasn’t until the second dance began that she spoke.

“Kristoff, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that you are not enjoying yourself.” Elsa said a bit sardonically as they twirled towards one another. “Am I such a bad partner?”

“I am not one for balls, as you know.” He replied curtly, unappreciative of her teasing. “One of the many things that endears our society to me is the lack of public dances.”

“Well, we appreciate your participation as there are so few gentlemen to couple with us ladies.” Elsa said.

He thought he understood her meaning, as he was aware his friend did not enjoy dancing with the intent of seeking out a courtship. Despite his personal frustrations, he found he could not be too begrudging of the nights events if he could offer himself a partner with whom she was comfortable.

“This sort of party very well could alight a passion in the upcoming youth to continue holding balls, though.” Elsa seemed thoughtful.

“I can only hope that it’s another five years before we’re forced to participate in such an event again.” Kristoff muttered, thinking darkly to the man who had suggested the ball in the first place.

He found the longer Hans Westergaard frequented their circles the more he disliked him. Not only for the reasons which Elsa had previously made him aware, but also because he had never met a man with whom he had found to be so profoundly disagreeable in personality.

He could hear him, several dancers over, loudly recounting the events of how his horse had thrown a shoe on a journey. His dance partner was laughing along.

Kristoff chose not to dwell on the fact that his partner was Anna.

“Five years? Has it been that long?” Elsa asked as they stepped towards one another, went in a quick circle, and stepped back.

“Yes. Anna still hadn’t been brought out into society and she was unable to join us.” Kristoff reminded Elsa as turned round the other partners beside them.

“Oh, I suppose that is right. When we came home Anna had stayed up and made us give her all the details.” Elsa gave a small smile as she recounted the memory.

_“Who did you dance with, Kristoff?” Anna had bounced happily on the edge of her seat in her, the curlers in her hair bobbed along with her._

_“Your sister. Then nobody else of any real importance.”_

_“I am practically green with envy! If I had been allowed to enter society at the same age as all the other girls I could have gone along!”_

_“You are ten and six years, Anna.” Elsa had chided. “You have hardly lost the bloom of your youth, and you are to be presented in London later this year.”_

_“I know but I missed it!_

_"It was hardly the social event of the nation, Anna.” Kristoff had chuckled._

_“Yes, but it was the social event of the season here! We never get to have any balls! If I had been there, we would have danced every single dance together, Kristoff! We would have stayed out the entire night!”_

_“You would have stepped on all my toes by then!”_

_“I would not! Just you wait. The next time we have a ball you and I will dance together until dawn and all your toes will be perfectly intact!”_

Kristoff made a humming noise to Elsa, pretending that he did not remember that exchange clearly in his mind as if it had merely happened the previous night.

He then had to physically restrain himself from looking down the line of dancers when he heard Anna give another hearty laugh. No doubt, completely enamored with whatever fascinating tale Mr. Westergaard was regaling her with.

Elsa gave him an unmistakable look out of the corner of her eye as they crossed arms and took their turn down through the middle of the other dancers, so he did his best to keep his face impassive.

There was no reason that he should be hurt by the readiness with which Anna had given up her first two dances to Mr. Westergaard. It was not as if she had made him a solemn promise to dance with him the next time there was a ball. That exchange had been years and years ago. He hardly expected _her_ to remember as he had.

Besides they had only spoken to exchange pleasantries over the past fortnight, so it was not as if he had had the opportunity to remind her, though he doubted he would have had the courage to do so if the occasion had presented itself.

He refused to look at Anna’s face as they passed in front of them. He hardly needed to see it glow in happiness and adoration. He was well aware of what she looked like when she held that expression.

The dancers all took their final turn and bowed to one another.

“If you’ll excuse me from the floor, Elsa, I don’t feel much like dancing any longer.”

“Of course,” she nodded, understanding. “If you would just escort me to the drink table. I doubt I shall dance any more this evening either.”

“As a young lady of good standing, I don’t see how you will avoid it.” He offered her his arm.

“If some other young man asks me, I will merely plead a headache.” Elsa gave a bit of a sly smile.

“It is a shame I cannot use that excuse.” He chuckled.

Kristoff then made the mistake of looking back at the dancefloor. The violinist had struck up a livelier tune, one that could easily be considered a ‘jig’, and he caught a glimpse of Anna giggling as she exchanged steps with the woman beside her. She was no longer partnered with Mr. Westergaard, and for that at least he could be grateful. Three dances together in a row would definitely turn heads, and there were already enough tongues wagging about what a handsome couple they would make.

Yet when the dancers turned in a wheel, she somehow wound up beside him again and he felt strangely sick to his stomach, though he knew he had no right to be.

“I suggest that you go check on your carriage?” Elsa offered, peering up at him sympathetically, and he realized his face must be revealing his emotions.

“A wonderful idea. Thank you.” He gave a grateful nod and retreated to clear his mind.

The party had died down considerably by the time he returned, and most people were sitting together in small groups talking. His first instinct was to find Elsa, but she seemed absorbed in conversation with a dark-haired woman.

He spotted Anna, tucked in a hallway by herself, thoughtfully sipping sherry. He was unaware that his feet were taking him to her until he stood beside her.

“Is the evening living up to your expectations on everything a country ball should be?” Kristoff asked her good naturedly.

Anna looked over to him, a bit surprised to see him, and smiled warmly. “Why, yes, it is. With only one small complaint.”

“Oh?”

“They haven’t played nearly enough country jigs.”

“I see.” Kristoff found himself chuckling. “I’m sure if you asked, they’d play plenty. The world bends to the will of Anna Arendelle.”

“That is hardly true.” Anna scoffed. “You always tease me so.”

“Forgive me, Anna. I meant it in the most complimentary sense.”

“Oh, really?” She raised an unbelieving eyebrow to him.

“Yes. As you are the picture of everything that is lovely and beautiful, the world should bend to you. You make it a much better place.”

His response seemed to shock her. Were they much, much younger he would have ruffled her hair as he said it, ruining her meticulously perfected ringlet curls and causing her to chase after him and she would have yelled about how he was a horrid and smelly boy.

He could hardly do such a thing now that they were grown, so he let the words sit in the air with the sincerity they deserved.

She blinked, her long lashes fluttering slightly, and her cheeks became a soft shade of pink and Kristoff dared to hope that her coloring had little to do with the warmth of the room.

“You give me too much credit, now.” She said faintly, sipping her drink.

“Hardly.” He chuckled a bit nervously, worried he had somehow overstepped.

“Well, seeing as you are the very standard at which a perfect gentleman is to be measured up against, I shall take that as the highest compliment I can receive.”

Her words could have been jesting, but they weren’t. They were just as sincere as his had been.

He once again found himself getting pulled into the wonderful blue depths of her eye, and she stared back at him, unblinking, for what felt like a small eternity. He wondered if she could clearly read in his own face what he was searching for in hers. Was it obvious, the quiet, unyielding devotion he had for her? He would assume so, though he couldn’t be sure. She seemed to be searching him closely, too, peering into his very soul.

He then took a breath and opened his mouth, prepared to say something, though what that might be he couldn’t fathom, when Kai walked up and caused them to startle.

“Anna! There you are! This ball has become far too dull! You must rouse the spirits of your fellows like only you can and get everyone dancing again!”

“Of course, Kai!” Anna gave a bright smile. “That sounds lovely!”

He took a moment to clear his throat, feeling a bit like he'd been prepared to step off a cliff only to be pulled back at the last second.

“Really,” Anna leaned towards him in feigned secrecy, “I don’t know how much more dancing I can endure. My feet have been sorely abused.”

“Whatever happened to the Anna who promised to dance until dawn?” Kristoff chuckled.

“She no longer holds the unrealistic romantic ideals of a sixteen-year-old.” Anna giggled, and his heart lurched as he wondered if she did, in fact, remember that evening so long ago. “I suppose I shall have to rouse everyone though, wont I?”

“Yes. I suppose you must.”

“Hmm.” She sighed taking one last sip of her drink. “It’s always down to me. Why Elsa can’t do these sorts of things is beyond me.”

“With whom will you dance?” He couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

“With you, of course.” She said it so quickly he almost didn’t register her words. “If you will ask me. You’ve proven yourself to be quite the dancer.”

“I-“ he blinked in amazement, “I would like nothing more.”

Anna smiled up at him and took the arm that he offered her, placing her drink on a passing tray.

After some deliberation music was decided upon, and other dancers were called back to the floor. Anna had requested something ‘spirited’, and while there were many complicated steps and reels, it was worth it to watch her giggle and hop from partner to partner.

By the time it ended, and she was across from him once again, she had rosy cheeks, and sparkling eyes.

“Again?” She asked him, forgoing any sense of propriety that dictated he should be the one to ask her and opting for the familiarity that came with years and years of friendship. "Your toes are all still in tact, just as I promised they would be." 

He felt his heart nearly stop at the confirmation of her remembrance. 

"The night is still young." He teased her to cover is shock. 

"So you will be my partner again?"

“Of course.” He couldn’t help but grin.

“Wonderful.” She looked pleased and took her position across from him.

The band struck up a melancholier tune, one with swooping notes from the violin, and someone called for a slower dance.

Anna shot him an amused smirk as they took their first steps towards each other, her right arm sweeping up, so it was a hairsbreadth from his, her gloved fingers curling delicately towards his palm. He gave her a half-smile in return and did his best not to stare at her too intently.

They stepped back to their starting places and watched one another as they waited for their turn again.

As they stepped towards one another again his eyes were so trained on her face that he miscalculated his step slightly, causing their forearms to brush lightly as they curved towards one another. She was no longer smiling. Rather, she was regarding him with an odd look that bordered somewhere in the realms of curiosity, fear, confusion, and surprise, no one emotion winning out above the others.

Kristoff tried to remind himself that there had been many occasions that his arm had brushed against Anna’s throughout their lives. When they were young there had been many times when his hand had touched her bare fingers and there should be nothing so novel about his touching her gloved fingertips. Yet, his body betrayed him, and he sucked in a breath as he somehow felt the heat of her skin through both her glove and his sleeve.

They stepped back to their starting positions again. He was caught by how her eyes bored into his, and he was powerless to look away. The frightened look was replaced with something else entirely and he couldn’t quite decipher it.

The next move called for him to turn her in a circle, catching her waist as he did so. Before he reached her, he firmly reminded himself not to hold her tightly or pull her any closer than was appropriate. Though his stern inner chiding accomplished little as his fingers gripped across the gentle curve of her side.

Kristoff wondered if Anna felt the same heat blossom where his hand rested. He wanted to ask her. He thought she might say yes, with the way she was looking at him, but it was hardly an appropriate thing to say.

Not for a moment did she take her eyes off his, completely trusting where he was leading them, though he thought that was quite a foolish thing for her to do, as he had never been more unaware of his surroundings in his life.

Somehow, he managed to navigate them through the other dancers, slowly twirling her around like the figurine on the top of her music box, which she often left open in the sitting room, and by the time the dance ended he was dizzy.

He had a feeling his lightheadedness had less to do with their rotating and more to do with the way her gaze made it much harder to breath.

As they took their final position his mind kept whirling, unable to light on any fully formed idea, though each thought began and ended with Anna. He had an infinite number of things he wanted to say to her, but he hadn't the slightest idea where to begin. His uncertainty was seemingly mirrored in her as she regarded him with wide eyes, her lips ever-so-lightly parted as if ready to phrase a question. 

They were both startled out of their reverie, unaware that they had missed the final bow to one another, when Gerda approached Anna.

He was unaware of what the older woman was saying to her, but Kristoff was grateful that she had redirected Anna’s attention so he could have a moment to realign himself with the world around him. He stepped away from the dance floor and took a moment to breathe.

It was then that he overheard the parson’s wife tittering about, “Do you think Mr. Westergaard and Miss Anna Arendelle will dance together again?”

His stomach turned sharply at the words, and he had a mind to march over to Anna and request a third dance with her, and then another, and another, and another if she would accept him, until the whole town was talking about it, and there was no question in Anna’s mind of his affections.

An older gentleman named Mr. Wessleton had already approached her, however. She gave the man a placid smile, yet she seemed to be looking for an escape, and she glanced around until her eyes rested on him again.

Kristoff watched her face closely, looking for an invitation from her, any sort of indication that she might wish for him to rejoin her, yet Wessleton pulled her notice back as he gave her a comical bow.

Anna's eyes met his again and she sent him an apologetic look. He could only give an encouraging smile in return, and throughout her dance she kept giving him bemused looks at the older man’s antics, as the gentleman seemed to think himself a proficient partner despite the fact that he stepped on Anna’s toes twice.

“I did not think you cared much for balls?” Elsa’s voice made him jump.

“I don’t know what makes you think I have changed my mind.” Kristoff replied, unintentionally gruff.

“A mere passerby might not notice, but I should say you are waiting for Anna to finish dancing so you can couple with her again.”

“I-“ Kristoff glanced up to see them finishing their song. “I suppose it might-“

Before he had a chance to step her direction again, Mr. Westergaard abandoned the companion he’d been dancing with to slide across the line and ask Anna for her hand again.

“I was actually just preparing to tell Anna that I shall be walking home, but I am leaving my carriage at your disposal.” He turned to Elsa quickly, unable to watch as Anna accepted Hans Westergaard again. “Seeing as you are here, I will ask that you relay the message to her.”

“Kristoff you cannot possibly walk home.” Elsa said, a look of concern washing over her pale face.

“If you would be so kind as to make my excuses.” Was all he could reply her and he gave her a curt bow before leaving, unable to meet Anna’s eye as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that in the dancing scene in movie Emma (2020) their bare hands are touching, but I opted for gloves in this story because I didn't want Anna to accidentally wind up pregnant because their fingers brushed.  
> (The truth is, I didn't think I could verbally do it justice. That is some next level cinematography.) 
> 
> P.S. I know I used first names for Gerda and Kai, which is shockingly inappropriate for the time period, but I could not for the life of me come up with last names for them. Sorry kiddos.


	3. Weighing of Horse-Chestnuts

There was one small thing that the Bjorgman and Arendelle houses held to be a tried and true tradition. Once the grove of chestnut trees that straddled their estates ripened, Kristoff, Anna, and Elsa had long considered it custom to compete upon who could gather the most chestnuts.

Since the years after their parent’s death, they had begun to make the event into a party, inviting their closest friends to join.

Never before had there been a point of contention on whom to invite.

“I know what you think of Mr. Westergaard, Kristoff,” Elsa said patting his arm as they walked through the chestnut grove. “But it really would have been rude not to invite him, and I do ask that you are civil.”

Kristoff made a small noise of begrudging agreement as he tossed a stick for his great hunting dog, Sven to catch. The dog hurried to retrieve it and Kristoff took the opportunity to scowl at Mr. Westergaard who was swiping brazenly at the ground with a stick, attempting to upturn some chestnuts. This seemed to amuse Anna, though she indignantly stated that such violence was unnecessary to pick horse-chestnuts.

Walking nearby was Gerda and Kai, present as they were every year, talking with the recently retired Luitenant Destin Mattias and his wife Helima. In addition to their party, Elsa’s new friend and companion a young Miss Honeymarren Nattura.

“It is such a shame that the whole of our society is based upon petty niceness.” Miss Nattura, spoke up. “Would it not be simpler if we were able to tell people, outright, we disliked them and had no wish for them to join our party?”

Kristoff found that even in his foul mood the assessment drug a small smile from his lips.

“Miss Nattura, it is with that comment alone you have secured your invite for our chestnut gathering party next year,” Kristoff told her as he tossed another stick for Sven.

“Oh,” She smiled warmly at him, “how lovely! I tentatively accept your invitation, though I shall leave that final deliberation up to Miss Arendelle.”

Kristoff noticed Elsa’s cheeks became pink as the two women walked off arm in arm.

It was only then that Kristoff realized he was the only member of their party that was not coupled with someone else in one way or another.

Each pair was spread lightly throughout the grove. Close enough to still be considered one group, but far enough away to carry on private conversation if desired.

A spirit of loneliness settled upon him so heavily he felt that he might be able to reach out and physically touch it. The thought of resigning himself to such a feeling was nearly just as overwhelming.

“At least I have you, old boy.” Kristoff affectionally rubbed Sven’s ears.

The dog gave an empathetic whine as if completely understanding his plight.

“I say!” Mr. Westergaard announced, drawing everyone’s attention. “What is the prize, should we gather the most chestnuts?”

“Oh, we’ve never had a real prize before.” Anna looked thoughtful. “We usually boast our victory for the next year to come.”

“What is a competition without a prize? Say we… a ten-pound note to whomever can gather the most in their bag by the lunch bell?”

“Who shall procure this prize?” Miss Naturra asked, raising a thoughtful eyebrow. “Surely not yourself?”

Her tone was subtle, so as not to announce any malicious intent, but pointedly assumptive that Mr. Westergaard would not be willing, or even able, to offer the prize money himself.

Kristoff saw Elsa pull in her top lip quickly, a key indicator that she was holding back a laugh.

“Of course, I shall!” Mr. Westergaard said jovially, though Kristoff thought he saw his eyes flash. “Let the race for chestnuts begin.”

There was a small shuffle that indicated the group was moving a bit quicker than before, so Kristoff put his head down and began to busy himself in an effort to forego his sense of loneliness.

He worked in silence, playing with Sven as he went, overhearing the occasional laugh or comment from his fellows, for near an hour, not watching where he was going.

He was surprised when he heard a pained gasp in his general vicinity.

Upon looking up he saw Anna, not but two yards away from him, still kneeling from her position in gathering chestnuts and gasping her hand. He hadn’t even been aware he had been working so close to her.

Mr. Westergaard was far away, his back bent, and his pace feverish enough so as to not hear Anna’s cry of pain.

“Anna, are you quite alright?” Kristoff asks, abandoning his bag to close the small distance between them.

Sven rushed over and sat close by, whining softly in concern.

“Oh, yes. These silly horse-chestnuts just stuck me through my glove is all.” She informed him as he helped her remove the thing.

There was a tiny pinprick of blood on her index finger, and without much thought, she popped the digit into her mouth to suck on it.

Quite out of his control, his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

She looked up at him then, clearly a bit surprised to find that he was staring at her in a completely unabashed way (for which he knew he ought to be ashamed, and yet he couldn’t look away). Then there was a flash of delight in her eyes and she slowly drew her finger out of her mouth again.

The idea that Anna could enjoy his attentions caused such a feeling in his chest that he had to avert his eyes quickly.

He cleared his throat. “Might I examine your injury?”

Without speaking she held out her hand, and he took it in his own. He did his utmost not to marvel at just how small it looked in his own, or just how soft it was in his calloused one, yet these observations could not be helped.

“Will I live?” Anna asked softly, her mouth quirking up into a small smile.

“I do not believe the burr will have left any permanent damage.” He chuckled.

She made no motion to remove her hand from his palm and he made no move to let her go. The urge to kiss her injured finger was so strong that Kristoff suddenly understood what it must feel like to be a moth drawn to a flame.

His head inclined slightly towards her hand and he heard her take a sharp breath.

There was a faint sound of the bell being rung.

“Ah!” Mr. Westergaard called from his great distance “There it is! Our gong! Not another chestnut is to be added!”

Anna still did not move her hand, and she watched Kristoff closely.

“Oh, what’s this?” Mr. Westergaard said, hurrying to Anna’s side. “Miss Anna, are you hurt?”

“Oh, I am quite well!” She laughed and rose to her feet, pulling out of Kristoff’s grasp as she did so. “As per Mr. Bjorgman’s assessment, it is nothing to fuss over.”

“Nonsense, I shall be the judge of that.” Mr. Westergaard reached for her hand and held it up to his face to examine it closely.

“Oh!” Anna gasped a bit in surprise, and Kristoff noticed a flush cover her cheeks.

He felt his stomach turn sharply, and he looked away. Sven, seeming to sense his distress, sat at his feet and Kristoff was grateful for the opportunity to show his dog affection while he composed himself.

The rest of the party began closing in and comparing their spoils and then the made back towards the Arendelle house where a luncheon had been laid out for them. All the while Kristoff decidedly avoided looking at Anna.

“How shall we distinguish the winner of this prize?” Miss Nattura asked, still arm and arm with Elsa. “Shall we count them one by one?”

Once again Kristoff found Miss Nattura eliciting a smile from him, though in truth it was mostly because of how clearly she amused Elsa, and he was so glad to see his closest friend have a companion that set her so at ease.

“We shall judge them by weight, I should think?” Kai spoke up.

“Lieutenant Mattias, you are an army man. What say you to being our judge?” Elsa asked. 

“I’d be delighted.” He announced. “Though do not be surprised when I win the prize.”

This caused a hearty laugh amongst the group.

Despite his jesting, Mattias was an impartial judge and soon it was down between Mr. Westergaard’s bag of chestnuts and Miss Nattura’s.

“I do not know if I can distinguish a difference.” He sighed in frustration. 

“My bag is clearly fuller.” Mr. Westergard announced. “You can tell! Look there! The bag is bigger, is it not, Miss Anna?”

“It is very hard to determine…” Anna pondered.

“Miss Nattura’s bag does feel ever so slightly heavier.” Lieutenant Mattias mused after a moment’s deliberation.

“It seems we shall have to count them one by one after all,” Elsa said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“You are a gentleman farmer, are you not, Mr. Bjorgman?” Miss Nattura spoke up.

“That I am.” Kristoff found himself smiling.

“Surely you have scales adept to handle such things?”

“I do, in fact.” He chuckled. “We should walk to my estate after lunch and settle the matter.”

“But…” Anna said, and he chanced a glance at her only to see a look of confusion shrouding her lovely features. “You rarely host parties.”

“It is true, my house has been shut up for some time. Though I believe my gardens will be pleasant enough to enjoy, and it is a lovely day. Beside it is at Miss Nattura’s request to use my scales, so truly, we must go.”

Kristoff successfully escaped Anna’s gaze for the rest of the lunch, and upon walking up to his estate he remained in step with both Elsa and Honeymaren, offering to carry the bags of chestnuts in question. Sven bounded alongside them, seeming especially excited that there would be more people than usual to entertain him once home again.

When everything had been weighed, it was determined that Honeymaren was indeed the winner, and Mr. Westergaard handed over a ten-pound note to her, his reluctance only thinly veiled. Soon after doing so, he began to mutter things to Anna just out of earshot of the rest of the group.

It was then, and only then, that Kristoff chanced a glance at Anna once more.

The sight that met his eyes made his stomach turn again.

Anna was blushing profusely, and when her eyes slid to meet his gaze, she blushed harder still.

“Miss Nattura, Elsa, would you care to accompany me through the gardens?” He called to the pair.

“Of course!” Both women called back.

"Might we follow you, Mr. Bjorgman?" Gerda called. "It has been such a long time since I have looked at your gardens."

"Certainly." He called.

He determined that while he might have to resign himself to a life of romantic loneliness, seeing as Anna was so thoroughly besotted by Mr. Westergaard, he should at least enjoy the company of his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched Emma again (FINALLY) and I felt inspired to try and complete this!
> 
> This is intended to mimic the feel of the Box Hill scene in Emma, though I absolutely CANNOT bring Anna to say mean things about people (because she wouldn't. She's too precious and pure). 
> 
> I also very much like the idea of Kristoff and Honeymaren subtly throwing shade.


	4. Scarcely Believe It

Kristoff found himself unwittingly walking towards the Arendelle estate. It was nearing twilight, so he was unsure as to whether or not he should be going in that direction, and several times paused to consider turning around, but alas he could not seem to stop.

His mind bounded between acceptable excuses as to why he might be showing up at such an hour, but he could find none.

All had been revealed, and Hans Westergaard had been discovered to be a blaggard and a cheat. He, being the last of many brothers had very little fortune left to call his own and wasted what he had on gambling. He had, on account from reputable relations in London, been seeking to steal the fortune of another young unsuspecting lady, who had nearly accepted his offer to run away to Gretna Green but had fortunately been saved when she heard he had sired a young boy out of wedlock many years prior leaving both child and mother only a degree above poverty.

Yet, these facts brought Kristoff no joy, for he could only think of how painfully Anna must be feeling this betrayal. He knew only too well how keenly Anna felt things, how spirited she was, and how thoroughly she invested herself into other people. He could only hope she hadn’t attached herself too thoroughly.

The thought of her heartbroken made his own heart ache.

He quickly ran his hand through his hair upon spotting the Arendelle mansion. There was a slight hill that stood between their houses and standing atop it he could make out a lone figure in a pale green frock pacing along the outside of the garden wall beside a horse-chestnut tree.

Even from such distance, he could see it was Anna.

He picked up his pace considerably.

She was clearly preoccupied with her thoughts and he was nearly upon her when he thought to announce his presence.

"Anna!” He called, his voice betraying him in its volume. 

“Kristoff!” She jumped, and she quickly swiped at her cheeks. “My, we weren’t expecting you this evening. It is nearly dark.”

“Yes, I know,” Kristoff said and the silence that then enveloped them was characterized with a distinct awkwardness which felt altogether unfamiliar.

“I believe-“

“Anna, I-“

They both began at once and paused.

“I believe Miss Nattura has already retired for the evening.” Anna began again.

“I…” He looked at her in confusion for a moment. “I see?”

“I’m sorry you have come all this way for disappointment.” Anna turned away from him sharply and began walking towards the great tree outside the garden wall.

“Actually, I’ve come…” He paused, unsure if he should follow her, or remain where he was. “I’ve come with a singular errand in mind.”

“Well, do not let me keep you from it.” She called over her shoulder quickly.

After a moment’s deliberation, he determined it would be best to follow her and ensure her wellbeing.

“Anna, I suppose… Well, I’ve come to seek you out and to comfort you, as your oldest friend, should you so need.”

Anna turned then, her eyes threatening to spill over with tears.

“I’m quite well, thank you, Mr. Bjorgman.” She said.

“Anna, I know that this must feel unbearable, but please believe me when I say that time will heal this wound of yours. Mr. Westergaard’s crimes, in both character and action, are inexcusable, but I am most sorely affected by how he has so injured you.”

“Oh.” Anna seemed slightly surprised. “I… While your concern means a great deal to me, I assure you, Mr. Bjorgman, my heart is unaffected by the news about Mr. Westergaard.”

The words so took Kristoff by surprise he thought he must have misheard her. There could be no explanation as to her sorrow-laden expression if she were not affected by Mr. Westergaard’s actions, and yet she had said exactly that.

“I…” Kristoff was fully aware his confusion must be evident. “My dearest Anna, then what vexes you so?”

“I should much prefer you not be privy to that information.” She whispered looking down at her feet.

“Anna, I confess you frighten me. When have we ever kept secrets from one another? You lead me to believe that it is something quite serious. Are you well? Were you mistreated in some way?”

“No, no, no.” Anna huffed turning away from him once more and ducking beneath the low hanging branches of the horse-chestnut tree. “It is quite trivial, believe me. I shall soon be better equipped to hide my emotions.”

Once again Kristoff followed her retreat.

“Anna, if you will not tell me what is pressing upon your heart then I implore you to let me tell you what is pressing upon mine, though I might wish it unsaid the next moment.”

“Then do not speak it!” She whirled quickly so that they were standing nearly toe to toe. “Surely if it is something you feel you should not share with me, then you ought not do so.”

“I-“ Kristoff was shocked at how truly gutted her words made him feel. “Well. If that is what you wish.”

He was surprised to feel tears stinging at his own eyes. To be rebuffed before he could even express his desires was painful, though he reasoned it might very well be for the best.

Anna wrung her hands nervously. “It is not my intent to hurt you, or our friendship… it is just… it will be too much for me to bear in hearing your praises for Miss Nuttara and your wishes to marry her.”

“My… my what?”

“I am not a fool, Kristoff. You came to the ball, and soon after began opening up your home to the public, something you’ve not done before, first showing your gardens, and then just last week inviting us to see your galleries. It is clear you’ve decided to give up your bachelor title and take a wife, and I shall have to call you Mr. Bjorgman so as to not offend your bride.

“Anna,” Kristoff stammered, “you shall never have to stop calling me Kristoff-“

“But I shall!” Anna began pacing at this point. “Miss Nattura will hardly appreciate me referring to you by your Christian name, me an unmarried woman who has now chosen to follow in her sister’s footsteps and become a willful spinster. I have no doubt that she would surely disapprove of such a thing, as she is very quick-witted and will realize the depth of my affection for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Kristoff breathed.

“I must also ask for your forgiveness in that I have not been especially kind to Miss Nattura. I have tried, truly I have, and I know you shall think less of me, but I couldn’t bear to place myself in the presence of the woman who would soon ruin all my hopes, and all because I was so foolish as to lose your good opinion by allowing Mr. Westergaard to pull me into actions that could only be described as ridiculous, inappropriate, and unrefined-“

“Anna!” Kristoff said firmly reaching forward and grasping Anna by the shoulders to cease her pacing. “I have no attachment to Miss Nattura, nor do I plan on forming an attachment to her.”

“I- what?” Anna quirked her head to one side. “But you’ve been spending so much time in her company as of late that I just assumed-“

“I am happy to form a friendship with a woman who has become your sister’s companion.”

“Yes, but surely Miss Nattura must believe you are-“

“Miss Nattura has no interest in me, much the same way your sister has no interest in me.” Kristoff gave Anna a pointed look.

“Oh...” Her furrowed brow cleared to an expression of understanding. “Oh. Oh!”

“Anna, I have entertained Elsa and Miss Nattura more frequently these past weeks merely to try and assuage my own loneliness. Not to display my house in hopes of offering matrimony. I’ve had no thought of matrimony… well because I was under the impression that your heart was otherwise occupied. Though upon hearing your declarations to remain unmarried for the remainder of your days, I take it that your affections are, in fact, unengaged?”

As he spoke, he loosened his hold on her shoulders, suddenly aware of their closeness.

“On the contrary,” Anna whispered, “my affections are very much engaged.”

“I see.” Kristoff stepped away from her, that feeling of disappointment descending upon him once more. “Then as I say, I shall probably wish this unsaid, but alas I cannot be wise and hold my tongue any longer. Anna, I have long regarded you as the sole owner of my heart. I am aware that I am not dashing, or debonair, or romantic, things I know you value-“

“Kristoff!” There were tears trekking down her cheeks, but she smiled. “I meant that my affections are very much engaged because I’m in love with you!”

“You… you are?”

“Yes,” she laughed, and swiped at her tears, “and I believe I have been for a very long time, though I’ve only just come to the realization within the past fortnight, something for which I shall have to beg your forgiveness.”

“But… Mr. Westergaard… and your blushes at the chestnut gathering party... I assumed…” He found himself drawing closer to her once again.

“I was ashamed, Kristoff. I should have listened to you right away, but I was so angry at being told I was wrong that I… I acted childishly, and I bitterly regret it. I now find myself distinctly against men with vain and superfluous airs. I’ve discovered I love strong and steady dispositions, that boast practical minds, and kind hearts.”

“Anna,” Kristoff whispered, reverently running his thumb along her cheek to cradle her lovely face in his hand, “my sweet, fiery, beloved Anna. Do you really love me?”

“I’ve said as much three times now!” She laughed again, leaning into his touch.

“Has it been three times?”

“Yes, it has.” She gave him an amused look.

“Forgive me, but I can scarcely believe it.” He gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his other hand. “For I’ve loved you for years and never thought I’d live to see the day where you felt the same.”

“What a silly thing to believe.”

It was then that Anna leaned in to close the distance between them, standing up on her toes so that her mouth could collide with his.

While the action caught him off guard he quickly leaned down to accommodate her, slanting his lips against hers and wrapping his arms around her waist as she in turn threaded hers around his neck. He had the vaguest thought to the improprieties of their actions seeing as it was nearly dark, but then he remembered that Anna loved him he quickly banished any thoughts that might put a damper on their first kiss. Instead, he focused on just how warm Anna felt in his arms, how vibrant, and wonderful. He hadn't often allowed himself to imagine such a scenario, but truly his daydreams were laughable in comparison to what it really felt like to hold her so close. 

“Anna, would you be my wife?” He asked when they finally broke apart for air.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this story and I'm almost sad that I've finished it... until I think about all the fancy language and then I'm like "nevermind! I'll go back to writing Modern AUs, thank you very much!"

**Author's Note:**

> This story will most likely just be connected one shots, not a fully fledged multi-chap fic (mostly because writing in anything that resembles Austen-esque speech is HARD).
> 
> MASSIVE shout out to Liv (on ao3 as ahtohallan_calling) for being the best beta reader and cheerleader ever!


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